


Sweater Weather

by sconesandtextingandmurder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Dogs, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, SPN Holiday Mixtape, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconesandtextingandmurder/pseuds/sconesandtextingandmurder
Summary: Cas was tall and broad-shouldered with strong runner’s legs. He had wild dark hair that looked like he’d walked through a windstorm no matter the weather, and his eyes were an almost unearthly blue. Dean could see him with a husky maybe, or a chocolate lab that could run alongside him, its tongue hanging out as it easily kept pace.Whatever Dean expected, it wasn’t a small and sturdy pug.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 195
Collections: Holiday Mixtape 2019





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> When I asked [BusySquirrel](https://bs-acorns.tumblr.com/) if she would collaborate on this year's holiday mixtape, I knew she'd make something great, but her art exceeded even my expectations! I can't stop smiling at it!
> 
> Thank you also to Lauren for the beta read and to Ri for literally making me a video so I could finally master the ao3 posting script.
> 
> This is one of my favorite challenges, so big thanks to the mods for another great year. Happy holidays to you all!

“They’re looking for a barista at the dog park,” Sam had said, a combination of words so nonsensical that Dean asked him if he’d hit his head.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I told you I’ve been taking Phoebe to the park.”

When Sam finally reached the point where he could get a dog, he’d gone right for a Great Dane, like he was making up for all his dogless years with the biggest one he could find. Next to most people, Great Danes seemed like miniature ponies, but Dean couldn’t deny that Phoebe looked perfectly proportional striding along his oversized, long-legged brother. Despite her size, she was the world’s biggest couch potato, sometimes sitting down on the sidewalk to declare herself done in the middle of walks. As it was nearly impossible to convince one hundred and twenty-five pounds of stubborn dog to do anything, Sam began exploring other options. In doing so, he discovered that taking her to a park resulted in her loping around, sniffing and peeing in a nearly infinite loop, getting some much-needed exercise without Sam needing to cajole her for blocks at a time.

Dean pretended like he wasn’t quite sure. “You mean the one where Eileen goes?”

Sam blushed and Dean smiled smugly, happy to see his big brother intuition hadn’t failed him. He’d been “casually mentioning” Eileen and her service dog with telling frequency.

That’s when Sam explained that there was a coffee shop on site at the park.

Before Dean applied for the job, he’d never considered the logic of a coffee shop/dog park combo, but the more he learned, the more sense it made. Dog people, it turned out, loved to socialize with other dog people, and they would stay at the same location for hours on end if their dogs were happy. If they could capitalize on that by selling hot drinks to cold people, then really, it was a win-win. And while Dean might not have been a dog person, he could chat up customers and make drinks like nobody’s business.

That had been a year ago. Now Sam and Eileen were making plans to move in together, and whereas Dean started out barely able to tell a bichon from a beagle, he was currently familiar with at least a half-dozen types of terrier. And while he’ll never admit it to anyone, one time he’d accurately identified a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, leaving him with the same self-congratulatory rush he imagined birders got when they added to their life lists.

Not only had Dean gotten familiar with the dogs, he’d gotten to know a number of the owners as well. Dean didn’t quite buy the theory that dogs and their owners started to resemble each other, but he couldn’t deny the perfect pairing of Garth with his tall, skinny whippet or Mildred, whose old poodle mix shared her grey curls and slow, stiff gait.

Then there was Cas.

He was tall and broad-shouldered with strong runner’s legs. He had wild dark hair that looked like he’d walked through a windstorm no matter the weather, and his eyes were an almost unearthly blue. Dean could see him with a husky maybe, or a chocolate lab that could run alongside him, its tongue hanging out as it easily kept pace.

Whatever Dean expected, it wasn’t a small and sturdy pug. The first time he’d shown up, Dean knelt down to greet the pup, and he’d asked--like he always did--the dog’s name. He made a point of trying to remember them because that was just good customer service.

Dean let the dog sniff his hand before running his palm over her short, smooth coat. Excited by the attention, the dog’s eyes bulged and it snorted through its pushed-in nose. Dean felt his own eyes widen in response and he used the opportunity to glance back up at the handsome owner. “What’s your dog’s name?”

The man took a moment to answer as he was busy gazing fondly at the snorting creature. “Zeus.”

Dean looked back at the dog who couldn’t weigh more than about twelve pounds, and laughed. “That’s hilarious.”

The man looked apologetic. “I didn’t name her.”

“No?” Dean tried not to think about the fact that he probably had an equally gorgeous girlfriend who’d bestowed the name.

“I acquired her from a rather unscrupulous breeder. It seemed wrong to change her name when everything else had been taken from her.” His brow furrowed in such a sorrowful way that suddenly a pug seemed like his perfect companion.

Dean got back to his feet. “Oh, wow. That’s great. That you rescued her, I mean.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sincerity that had Dean biting back a smile.

“Welcome to Pups and Cups.” Dean held out his hand. “I’m Dean.”

“Cas.”

***

Dean liked a lot of things about Cas. Like the way he kept close to Zeus in the park. Plenty of owners unclipped their dogs from the leash and settled down on a bench, but Cas moved slowly around the park with her, like he was worried the bigger dogs might get a little too rough. He liked the way Cas seemed oblivious to exactly good-looking he was, either missing out on (or not interested in) the way both men and women tried to strike up conversations with him. He liked that Cas had an earnestness about him that was oddly endearing, an almost shy formality that made each smile Dean got out of him extremely gratifying. It generally involved greeting Zeus, so Dean made a habit of addressing her and pretending to take her order before getting his. Maybe it was the predictability of the interaction, but Cas seemed to genuinely enjoy the joke. He’d give Dean that full-on smile, the real one where his eyes crinkled.

“Ask him out,” Charlie told him after he’d gone through this routine one day.

“I dunno.”

“Dean. You spent the last forty-five minutes with one eye on the door waiting for him to show up.”

“Keeping an eye out for new customers is an important part of the job.”

“You elbowed me out of the way to take his order.”

“I did not,” he insisted as she sadly rubbed her upper arm. “Wait, did I really?”

“Of course you didn’t.” She grinned, validated. “But clearly you didn’t consider it out of the realm of possibility. Oh hey, here he comes again.”

“Shut up,” he hissed at her as Cas made his way back into the coffee shop. “What’s up, Cas? Does Zeus need extra whip?” He ignored the soft groan Charlie made.

“Actually, Dean, I just wanted to let someone know that the poop bag dispenser is empty.”

“I’m on it. Thanks for letting me know.” Cas’s cheeks were pink from the cold December day. So were the tips of his ears. Something about it made his eyes look extra blue. Dean didn’t realize they were still standing and staring until he felt something whap him in the arm.

“Here you go, buddy. Why don’t you go take care of that right now?” Charlie gave him a faux innocent look and Dean looked down to find the package of refills in his hands. “I’ll watch the front.”

Charlie was the best friend Dean had ever had, and she was practically bouncing on her toes when he came back inside. “Well? Did you ask him?”

Dean shook his head. “Charlie, I’m the guy who makes him coffee and replaces the poop bags. I’m not a guy he’s looking to go out with.”

“Dean--” Charlie began, a soft look on her face that was worse than if she’d yelled at him.

“It’s fine.” He was saved from any further discussion when a group of people and dogs came in through the door.

***

As December progressed, Charlie continued encouraging him to ask Cas out and Dean continued to refuse. He was fine for dumb jokes and he knew he made a damn good latte, but Cas had a real job doing...something important. From time to time Dean overheard him take a work call on his cell phone and it was all _I’ll get you the files_ and _Let me run the numbers_ and other fancy shit that reminded Dean that Cas was out of his league.

It was all good. Dean could continue to look forward to the few moments when Cas had those blue eyes focused on him, he could take satisfaction in making him smile and presenting him with a hot drink on a cold day. He didn’t need more.

One afternoon, he was crouched down in front of the counter giving a handsome Shepherd mix named Otto his puppacino. Otto’s overly large dark ears perked up when Zeus bounded over to say hello. It was well past the time Cas usually showed, so Dean had assumed he wasn’t coming, but from the looks of her, today was clearly a special occasion. She was dressed in a red and green Christmas sweater, adorned with a dog wearing sparkly green slippers and a candy-striped elf hat.

“Well, look at you!” Dean said, as she pushed her snout into his waiting hand. He got to his feet, laughing in delight when he realized Cas was wearing a matching sweater. “You guys been to an ugly sweater party or what?”

The familiar smile didn’t cross Cas’s face. If anything he looked more serious, his head tipping to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Uh,” Dean said, praying for the floor to open beneath him. Or for the espresso maker to explode and vaporize him where he stood. Anything.

“Oh,” Cas said, as if it suddenly all made sense, and Dean thought maybe he’d be able to breathe again. He pointed to his sweater. “Maybe you didn’t realize that this is a pug.”

Dean looked more closely. It was indeed a pug. A pug, wearing an elf hat adorned with sparkly pom poms perched on a shiny red and green striped present. If that weren’t gaudy enough, green and red satin bows were scattered across the sweater.

Cas smoothed his hand over his chest in a most distracting way. “It’s even a girl! See?”

“A tutu,” Dean said, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry. “She’s...wearing a tutu.” And she was indeed, made of bright red netting.

“It’s our first Christmas together.” His eyes were shining.

Charlie, who had apparently witnessed this entire debacle, came to his rescue. “Dean, could you please. Get that thing. From the back.”

Gratefully Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” In the back he stood with his forehead against the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator, trying to let it soothe the embarrassment that heated his face.

A few minutes later, Charlie poked her head through the door. “The coast is clear.”

Dean thumped his head once against the fridge before straightening up. Charlie watched him, concern in her eyes as he came back out. “What do I do?”

“I...don’t think he’s upset?” Charlie glanced out the window to where Cas was doing his normal route following Zeus around the park.

“Yeah, but he thought I was making fun of him.”

“That’s because you were.”

“What was I supposed to think?” The embarrassment was making him defensive, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Who would wear a sweater like that _sincerely_?” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I fucked this up.”

“I have an idea,” Charlie said.

***

The next day she arrived with a large shopping bag. They were still thirty minutes from opening and she pulled him into the back.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

She nodded decisively. “I’m absolutely positive that it won’t make things worse.”

“That’s not exactly...reassuring.”

“Look, Dean. If you don’t want him to think you were making fun of him, then you have to put your money where your mouth is.” She reached into the bag. “Speaking of, you owe me $24.99.”

“He won’t be in until this afternoon. Can’t I put it on then?”

“No way. For this to work, you need to wear it unironically _all day._ ”

Dean pulled off his outer layer and took a deep breath before pulling the sweater over his head. ”Not a word.”

In a flash, Charlie had her phone out to snap a picture. “You’re a hero.” She moved closer to show him. The bright red sweater was dominated by a large Christmas tree made from those sequins that changed color when flipped over. Next to the Christmas tree was a pug wearing a Christmas sweater of its own. In large letters under the tree it said BAH HUM PUG.

Dean took in a long, slow breath through his nose.

“He’s gonna love it,” Charlie said, using two fingers to flip the sequins.

He pushed her hand away. “Consent is a thing. I gotta get to work.”

All morning long Dean dealt with amused looks and a variety of snarky comments.

“You lose a bet?” he muttered as sarcastically as possible with his back turned to the counter after hearing it for the umpteenth time. The more people gave him shit--little joking comments that shouldn’t have meant anything but that built up over time until he was ready to substitute decaf in all their fucking high maintenance orders--the more defensive he got, going from shrugging apologetically and trying to laugh along, to glaring, his chest puffed out like a soldier. Why the fuck shouldn’t he be able to wear whatever he wanted without people making disparaging comments? It was an object lesson in...what did Sam call them? Microaggressions. He was making a mental note to text his brother and let him know he finally understood when Cas and Zeus came in.

Now the shyness that he’d started his shift with washed over him again. What if Cas didn’t notice, or what if he thought Dean was making fun of him. _Again._ He heard Charlie murmur “Here we go,” as she moved into place to take over the customer ahead of Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. “Did you get a new sweater?”

“Heya, Cas. I did.” Dean knew this was the whole point, but he felt self-conscious and couldn’t seem to keep from rushing to take his order. “You want your usual?”

But Cas was still staring at his chest and a small smile had crossed his face. As Dean watched, he disappeared out of view, popping up a moment later with Zeus in his arms. “Look, baby,” he practically cooed in his rough, deep voice. “It’s a pug just like you.”

Dean stood a little taller, tugging at the front of his sweater like it would help her see better.

“May I?” Cas asked, nodding toward Dean.

“Uh, sure?” Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to, but cradling the dog in one arm, Cas reached out and smoothed a hand over the sequins on his chest. Dean’s mouth went suddenly dry. Cas’s hand was a firm presence, warm even through the sweater. He stroked up and down, evidently delighted. Zeus snorted and pressed her nose under Cas’s chin.

It was now or never.

“Would you like to go out some time?” It came out in a rush, Dean almost breathless with nerves and Cas’s palm on his chest.

Cas went still but he didn’t drop his hand. His blue eyes widened in surprise. “I would love to.”

“Cool,” Dean said. “Cool. Ok. We’ll do that.” They stood and smiled at each other until the customer behind Cas cleared his throat. “Let me get your coffee.” This time Dean carefully wrote his number on the cup.

***

A few months later, Cas and Zeus showed up in matching red sweaters. Each one had a shiny satin pink heart with an applique of a pug in the center. In big letters were the words _Pugs and Kisses_. “It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” he explained to Charlie, after giving Dean a quick kiss.

Dean was already wearing his.


End file.
